Driving Forward
by CaptainAmberRose
Summary: Five years after the demise of Voldemort, Hermione Granger remains exasperated. Equality is still far from reality for many of the population and her determination, not to mention stubborness, will carry her forward.
1. Chapter 1

This is the epilogue of a hopefully multi-chapter story (depending whether people actually like it!). The epilogue is a little bit full of jargon, but bear with me, there will be a story eventually. Please Read and Review, constructive criticism is most definitely welcome, as are suggestions on how people would like the story to take shape.

_Recent studies into the molecular nature of magic have yielded interesting information regarding the origin of the magical energy that many of our population often seem to take for granted. Whilst both wizards and non magical members of the human species have a similar genetic code, subtle differences exist which may account for our ability to wield and utilise magic._

_In the last century, magic was theorised to be an integral part of the wizard's being – making up the quartet of his body, soul, mind and magic. However, studies in the last forty years have revealed that magic is not stored in the body of a wizard as his magical core – as previously thought. _

_Magic is energy. Free energy in the surrounding environment that the recently evolved of the human species – wizards – are capable of absorbing and manipulating to their will. The average non magical person (known crudely as "muggles") has not evolved mechanisms of utilising magical energy. _

_Magic absorption draws in free energy from the environment and then energy is then released in the desired form (for example, light (Lumos)). Without the use of a focusing tool (wand), magical is released in a haphazard, uncontrolled form, similar to the bursts of accidental magic performed by young witches and wizards. The use of a wand allows focusing and control of the user's magic in order to achieve the desired action._

_Pureblood – a casual term for those of magical ancestry - is a name given to individuals who usually have two or more generations of magical relatives and are capable of practicing magic. Half-blood refers to those with less than one generation of magical ancestry or otherwise one magical and one non-magical parent. Muggleborn individuals used to be an anomaly, until observations of subtle mutations in the individual's DNA proved that random mutations in the genetic code were capable of creating an individual able to absorb and manipulate magical energy. _

_This information gives a great deal more insight in the origin of magic. Witches and wizards are likely to have evolved from muggles many thousands of years ago, building in numbers until a community of magic users was formed. _

She flicked the tip of the ballpoint, trying to coax a last drop of ink onto the page, before signing her name in a small, neat print at the bottom. Banishing the empty pen in the direction of the bin, she carefully eased the centimetre thick thesis into a plastic pocket, before storing it securely, wary of the biro stains smeared across her aching fingers.

She would have loved to have typed all one hundred and fifty A4 pages of speculation regarding molecular magical theory, but the hospital board were irate enough that she refused to use parchment, so antagonising them further wasn't too high on her to-do list.

She suspected the board had given her that particular topic of research to distract her from the side project she been recently investigating. The werewolf condition was a particularly intriguing one – a disease she'd been eager to study from the beginning, but they were unwilling to advocate her a research grant to supposedly "fritter away hospital funds on pointless and financially unviable projects".

Since the demise of Voldemort, muggleborn witches and wizards had become entitled to rights equal with those of half blood and fullblood status. They could attain positions in the ministry not previously available to those of different blood status and were able to apply for financial aid where they hadn't before.

It was something she whole heartedly approved of and had spent some time campaigning for, before taking up a place as a medical researcher at 's.

However, equal rights hadn't exactly found their way to supposedly "non-humans". Werewolves and vampires were still forced to undergo discrimination, faced abuse and substandard treatment in almost every field of life. Many were unable to hold positions in the ministry and were still given substandard medical care. Even now, a werewolf with a fairly serious illness or injury was still required to wait until last in a queue that consisted of witches and wizards. There were no laws opposing their discrimination, no laws stopping bigoted members of the magical population refusing to serve or rent property to known werewolves.

It was appalling and cripplingly derivative against a community that now claimed that every one of its members had equal rights.

She supposed they didn't count the werewolf population as part of their community. It was cruel and infuriating and she had intended to do something about it.

Every campaign, every petition was sidestepped and blind sighted. Every request she made to the board to begin a research project was turned down. Unfortunately for the board, they would soon learn just how stubborn _she_ could be.

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	2. Chapter 2

Next Installment up now! Thanks to **ebonbon** for reviewing!

**Chapter Two  
**

Her heels clacked noisily on the marble floor as she strode purposefully towards her destination. With its high, arched ceilings trimmed with gold and imposing marble arches, the hospital was built more like a cathedral than a place to house the sick.

It was an impressive feat of architecture, undoubtedly, but she couldn't help but inwardly scorn the gilded monstrosity, sure that funds could have been far better put to use in aiding those it was intended to help, rather than impressing foreign dignitaries.

After all, it was a hospital, not the ministry.

Restraining the urge to tut in distaste, she ran a hand over the tight knot of hair pinned at the back of her head, controlled only by clips and a liberal amount of willpower. Satisfied that her hair was in place, she turned her attention to the modest blouse, smoothing out the worst of the creases with practiced ease and twisting her skirt back into the correct position.

Finally content, she rapped sharply on the door to the boardroom, swallowing back a thousand irritable thoughts to focus on the task at hand.

The door swung open abruptly, bringing her face to face with an apologetic looking elderly gentleman, who ushered her inside with a sympathetic smile.

Now familiar with the expressions of pity she received on a daily basis from the senior members of staff, she nodded briefly before persevering onwards into the cold chamber.

The boardroom was designed to be intimidating, she'd realised fairly early on; with the board members, somewhat stereotypically all males, raised to a level above the speaker. It had the formidable air of a courtroom, high ceilings and empty space intended to isolate the ill-advised soul who sought to win the favour of the board.

She straightened, drawing on her heels to give her the extra height she so desperately needed. But nevertheless, no matter how daunting they intended to appear, no mere _man_ was going to intimidate Hermione Granger.

The head of the board gave her the nod to begin speaking, but his attention was elsewhere, and it was painfully clear that he was barely listening to her presentation. Disinterest thronged the air like smog, choking her with frustration and indignance. Fortunately she had expected this.

She'd finished presenting the idea, knowing full well it would be rejected by every member of the board, knowing full well that none of them had listened to a single word she had said, knowing full well what their stance on the matter would be before she had even entered the chamber.

And as the customary rejections began to fall about her ears like dead flies, she waited patiently for them to finish.

Smiling in a slightly predatorial nature, she took another step forward.

"Gentlemen, as you may now be well aware, I have put forward this request an approximation of five times, and have been denied each opportunity. I have proposed a project that could mutually benefit both our society and the individuals it affects. I have even offered to fund part of the project myself.

Yet each time I have been rejected on the grounds of mumbled excuses and rules that haven't existed in thirty plus years, but you have quoted them regardless, perchance hoping I wouldn't bother to research further.

However, I have noticed that large sums of money have been given freely to other researchers studying far less ground breaking or significant projects. Another coincidence perhaps is that each of these members of staff are male. More suspiciously, on closer examination, every single one of these is a so-called pureblood. Hardly a coincidence considering a further three members of staff had already been turned down on the grounds of a lack of funds – especially since these three researchers consist of two females and one muggleborn male."

During her speech, she'd taken particular interest and delight in the growing discomfort amongst the board members, still smiling pleasantly at them, secretly enjoying the look of unease of the face of the head.

"But I hardly expect that you were aware of that. 's claims to be an equal opportunities employer, so I would be frankly _astounded_ that the governing body were knowingly enforcing a sexist and blood purist work environment."

Repressing the urge to grin at the now white as a sheet head of the board, she decided to twist the knife a little further.

"It would be particularly damming for the hospital, especially given that equal opportunities are somewhat of a hot topic in this political environment, if it became widely known that 's were enforcing practices that were of a discriminatory nature."

She watched the bulging eyes and sweaty brows with a sense of satisfaction, before adding quickly,

"I speak purely out of concern for the reputation of my workplace, of course. It wouldn't do for me to be seen working somewhere that endorsed such archaic values."

And so it was that fifteen minutes later she left the chamber, desperately trying to suppress the urge to bounce like a five year old. Brandishing the paper of authorisation in one hand and a slight smirk on her face, she gave the old secretary a passing wave, holding back a giggle of delight as he stared at her in awe.

Feeling oddly rebellious, she retrieved her wand and banished all the pins from her hair in one swift motion, sighing in relief as mousy curls tumbled about her shoulders once more.

_Back to work.  
_

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